


When You're in Heaven

by bootlegtruth



Category: iKON (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - They're Catholic, Bobby is a jerk, Denial, Depression, Hanbin maybe is too, He's in The Purgatory though so don't worry, I know nothing about this fic, Internalized Homophobia, Jealousy, Light Angst, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Mentions of Suicide, Miscommunication, Violence, god who knows, maybe a little dark, maybe a little fluff, maybe smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:48:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23800318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bootlegtruth/pseuds/bootlegtruth
Summary: in which Jiwon died and went to The Heaven™
Relationships: Kim Hanbin | B.I/Kim Jiwon | Bobby
Comments: 8
Kudos: 40





	1. The Purgatory

**Author's Note:**

> Just wanna put this out there so I'll be motivated to write something about it.

Jiwon was dead.

He was sure of it by now, looking at the long queue in front of him. It's been like this for days when he first became conscious of his surroundings. A white void, filled with unfamiliar faces who can't seem to speak, not at least when he tried to talk to one of them. 

He looks around once again, trying to figure out where the hell is he. Or where the heaven. If he's dead, then surely it's either one of those. If he's in hell, then where is the agonizing pain and heat that burns deep in his skin? If he's in heaven, then where is the orchestra of angels and the promise of happiness? Why does he feel nothing just as how his memory vague?

There was a man at the end of the queue, he sees him for the first time when it was almost his turn. The man was responsible for filtering out people, he figures. 

"It says here Mr. Edward" the man looks down at the brown, worn-out book in his hand. "Thompson, that you voted for Trump during the 2016 elections. I'm really sorry but you're going to hell, dude." and just like that Edward Thompson was gone.

Jiwon's eyes widen in shock. He knows a thing or two about how people are filtered out to go to heaven or hell. His mother once told him that it takes one sin to single out years worth of goodness. That practice becomes permanent. Once you revel in the accomplishment of doing something prohibited, how nothing bad happens to you after, you'll begin to find yourself doing it again, and again without remorse. 

But Jiwon, like any other son, didn't listen. At first, it felt good to do by the book. Be a good son, after all, the bible commands to honor your father and mother. And soon after, when he discovers how much power he has, how the human mind works, how innately a man tries to seek for pleasure, he throws away his book of reason. Turns away from what they call God. What can another man do if he wants to touch himself and have fun? He finds out later on that nothing is more pleasurable than looking down at someone kneeling in front of him, something he never felt whenever he's the one kneeling inside the church, talking to someone whose existence he wasn't even sure of.

He's going to hell.

The man looks up from his book. They stare at each other. Jiwon thinks for a long time, trying to conjure up a picture of the saint who was in charge of the gates of heaven. The man in front of him surely looks nothing like St. Peter. For starters, he looks Korean. He's seen a handful of saints from his mother's guidebook that he's sure there weren't many canonized Asians. He squints before him.

"Why is your name marked in red with an underline?" the man seems to be talking more to himself than to him. He puts his hand to his chin, trying to come up with a reason or an excuse. Did he miss something? "Anyway, you can proceed." he smiles at Jiwon.

"Wait, what?" it was the first time Jiwon had ever used his voice since his awareness. The feeling of words coming out of his mouth lingered on. 

"You can proceed. An angel is waiting for you once you're inside." 

Jiwon wants to ask more questions. No. He doesn't deserve this. Why is he going to heaven? Or is it really the heaven he's been promised after death? The one his mother talked about in every bedtime stories? The paradise everyone desires? Nothing seems to be right until he was being pushed out of the white nothingness—closing his eyes tightly as soon as he meets the blinding light—and into the wonderful harmonies of voices ringing in his ears, the scene unfolding as something so incredibly perfect that when he tries to blink, it becomes ten times clearer than usual. 

"Hello, my name is Kim Jinhwan. I am the angel assigned to weigh out the degree of the things you've done as a mortal. I should tell you, as a confession, that you are not in The Heaven yet as this was simply a simulation of what The Heaven looks like." he pauses and smiles. "Here's a simulation of The Hell if you so happen to fail to meet the average points allowed to be let in." 

His surroundings change into something much more grim. He sweats immediately, his skin tingling as he feels his insides burn. He wants to shout, but it would be drowned by the thousand screams of agony harboured for a thousand years. The minute he remembers it wasn't real, he was back to the first setting.

Jinhwan breathes, sighing a single _whew_ before smiling at him. "I'm more comfortable with this simulation as this is my home." he smiles even wider. "I can't believe I still remember my line. I only read the whole script once before going here. It's been years since we had someone in The Purgatory."

Jiwon narrows his eyes. "Oh, I thought that was only a concept." 

He knows about the purgatory. A place to repent. Where souls are sent off if they did something good enough to not be sent directly to hell and evil enough to not be sent directly to heaven. They say if the people you left behind in the mortal world would pray enough, it could diminish your sins and God would consider letting you in. 

Jiwon didn't believe that. He thought it ridiculous even, because an evil person with a large number of family left behind could easily be in heaven if the said family sent off their prayers day and night. It didn't make sense. For him, it was just heaven and hell. He understood, though, why people held on to the idea of a purgatory. It's a sliver of hope that they could still get to experience eternal happiness had they been able to repent on their sins a little bit longer.

And now here he is. About to repent. He was given another chance. 

"It is a concept. Everything in here is a concept. I, for one, am. Even the Big G." Jinhwan's finger points upwards. "It depends on what people believes. Everything you see right now is your own idea of what The Heaven would look like. Had you been dreaming of a Harry Potter version of The Heaven then you will see me as Hagrid." Jinhwan beams at him again. "Notice how almost everyone you see is Korean. That's because you're more comfortable seeing people like _you_. Or maybe because you kinda hate the whites." he chuckles.

"So, you're not really Kim Jinhwan? This is a fake identity? Isn't it bad to lie in heaven?" Jiwon prompts, raising an eyebrow playfully.

"Correction: The Purgatory. And it's not heaven, it's called The Heaven." Jinhwan says. "We had to add the The because Led Zeppelin copyrighted Heaven much to Big G's dismay. And to answer your question, yes, I'm not really Kim Jinhwan but no, I am not lying. I'm using an alias. My actual name is Angel 9872093681028930696968—"

Jiwon dismisses him when it seemed like the angel wasn't done spewing numbers. He also figured that Big G, was in fact, God. Which was probably the least weird thing he had heard today.

"Anyway, Jiwon...or Bobby? Which do you prefer?"

"Anything is fine." 

The angel nods. "I was not the angel assigned to watch your whole life so I actually don't know much about you except for your written record. I would also like to apologize for taking four years to get you in here. The angel who was supposed to fetch your soul lost their scythe and was sulking." Jinhwan pouts apologetically.

And Jiwon's eyes go big, realizing something, he halts. "Wait, four years?"

"Four heaven years, at least. That's like four months in the mortal land."

"And how long have I been dead?"

"Oh, you don't know?" Jiwon shakes his head.

"Well, you've been dead for eleven years."

///////

Jiwon learns a little sooner that he cannot curse. He lets out a silent. "Holy fuzzle." and was suprised that his _fuck_ was filtered out. Jinhwan tuts.

"You can't do that here. Please try to not do that again. It physically hurts me, you know?" 

"How am I dead for eleven years? When did I die? How did I die?" Jiwon bursts out and as much as Jinhwan wants to answer everything, he can't. He could only try.

"As I've said ealier, I wasn't the one tasked to watch your life unravel. And your written record only shows your favorites, which _taste_ by the way." he winks. "And well, a bit of what you've done on Earth but we'll get to that later. So to answer some of your questions, I think you died in 2019, I'm not good in Maths but that means it's already 2030 on Earth. Dark cloud: there are still no flying cars, silver lining: same-sex marriage is legal everywhere in the world. Whew about time." 

Jiwon nods, but his eyes were still looking for a specific answer to his last question. He can't seem to remember no matter how much he thinks about it.

"I'm sorry but I have no idea how you died. Don't worry, you'll know it on your own soon, when we disintegrate the things you've done on Earth." Jinhwan gives him a reassuring smile.

Jiwon couldn't argue. Doesn't want to. Not even when he's so curious himself. All he needs to do is wait. It's not like The Purgatory has a deadline.

Out of nowhere, their setting changed into something much more modern. A cinema. They were both seated far back. A big white screen in front of them. Jinhwan was holding a popcorn. 

"I can't actually eat this but I love props." and that makes Jiwon smile. 

He takes one popcorn from the box and pops it into his mouth. It doesn't taste like anything. He shrugs. "I guess I can't eat it too." 

Jinhwan laughs a little before a scene was being played on the white screen.

"We play first how you were born. How much you changed after. We will watch every significant thing that happened in your life that would help in sparking your memories back. You don't have to worry about the actual weighing, I'll do that on my own. Just watch and enjoy." 

Jiwon fidgets, nervous when certain images start flashing on the screen in front.

"Ready to see the most important person in your life once again?" Jinhwan puts his hand on top of his, rubbing it. 

"My mom?" Bobby asks.

The angel shakes his head, smiling at him. "Kim Hanbin."


	2. The Mortal World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not much but I'll try to write longer for the next, or the next, or the next next next

The concept of the afterlife wasn't initially taught in schools. It starts at home with a family, or even just a mother. Whether it be on the empty dining table where you say graces despite having no food to eat or inside a shabby narrow space one may call a bedroom, murmured in a prayer that says, "Take us to your kingdom, Father." 

Jiwon was a lanky boy from Fairfax, Virginia. He used to wear thick square-framed glasses and snapbacks. Couldn't speak Korean without stuttering to save his life. It wasn't a problem because he never liked having a conversation with other people, though. It had always been hard for him to make friends. In his younger years, he was brought to a kids bible study where it would be easier to associate himself with others. By the end of it, everyone had someone except him. 

When they moved back to Seoul, his mother thought it would be nice if he befriended the son of their neighbor who was slightly older than him, to become accustomed easier. Because Jiwon wasn't one to adapt to his surroundings quickly. He wondered why it was needed not knowing the  _ no man is an island _ adage but even if he did know, he would just call on its bullshit.

The son of their neighbor was rather...unnatural. At least for him. He wears shirts that are too bright, too short for his own liking. Pants too tight, nails too shiny. Everything about him was  _ too much _ . Sometimes he would see him walking around with a flower tucked behind his ear, cheeks flustered and lips tainted with a light shade of pink. There was a visible spark in his eyes and Jiwon didn't like it. All of it. All of him. 

It's not in a sense that he didn't want to get friendly. He actually tried, at least for his mother. At a young age, he was taught about the right words to say. To be thankful when given, to ask for help when in need, to apologize when filled with regrets. However, he didn't think all of those were useful. Since he hasn't encountered a situation where it would be appropriate for him to apply. He wasn't looking for one.

He never did got closer with their neighbor's son. He was content with being alone, watching the said boy from afar. And whenever he's in their garden, watering the plants and talking to them casually with a high-pitched voice, humming a song only the butterflies know, it seems to haunt him in his sleep. 

Sometimes, it was through the window, a glimpse of what was happening behind closed doors, with only the dim orange light as witness...and Jiwon. The boy was kissing another boy. He's never seen anything like it. When they started to undress each other, he turned around and closed the window. Heart frantic in his chest. Jiwon never looked nor spoke to him ever again.

///////

Kim Hanbin. It was easier to remember names when school finally started. Particularly this one. It stuck out as they both had the same surname. Not that it was unique, but Jiwon had always been good with names. They were seated beside each other. 

"My name is Kim Hanbin." the boy whispered. 

"Yeah, I heard." he replied. 

The boy released an awkward "Oh", brain scampering to think of another response. 

"That means you got nice hearing skills, then." and he smiled awkwardly too. Jiwon noticed his teeth was slightly crooked, much different than his but with more natural convenience. He wouldn't get bullied for something like that. Jiwon said nothing, just nodded noncommittally.

They never spoke for the whole duration of the first class after that. 

"Um, hey." he saw him again during lunch. Jiwon was sure he would be alone for the rest of his freshman year in high school. He never did make an effort to talk to anyone except when it's necessary. But here was Kim Hanbin, settling down his tray on his table, sitting down on the chair across him. 

"I never got your name. Sorry, my hearing skills aren't as good as yours." 

"Bobby." 

"Bobby? That's weird. Is that your real name?" his eyes widened for a moment before speaking again. "Sorry, I just called your name weird. I meant, it sounds new." he scrunched his nose in apology. 

Jiwon didn't mind. His name sticks out too. And he liked using it more than his real name. It makes him a bit memorable than the rest.

"It's not my real name. But you can call me Bobby." 

"Okay, Bobby." 

The following years he found himself telling Hanbin his real name. And when Hanbin called him Jiwon, he liked it. Like it was some sort of novelty. Because with Hanbin, there was a difference. 

He wasn't like any other boy his age. He wasn't a friend, nor family. He wasn't like his neighbor. Hanbin was beyond his reach and there was quite a distance between them. That's how Jiwon knows no lines were crossed. 

He was smoking in the school rooftop when it first happened. It was harder to get caught these days. The collar of his uniform was soiled with blood and he was pretty sure his face wasn't in a much better state either. He sat on the dusty floor, leaning on the wall as he blew out smoke as if it was meant to save his life in a way. He knew full well it wouldn't.

Ever since he started school, he found himself inevitably getting into a fair amount of fights. Either by gambling even without money or through the more violent ones. He reasoned it lessened the numbness he felt. 

He's been on a roll lately with the same shit. It was hard for him to feel things, especially pain. Numb like his whole body fell asleep and every punch he took was the only way to wake him up. 

Most of the time, the blood doesn't stop. He at least hoped for the sting to remain forever. Be constant. Once he heals, he comes craving for it again. Like a deeply consistent routine. He falls back time and time and he wonders when he will get tired of it.

The rooftop he usually finds comfort in was partly abandoned as there was an ongoing rumor about ghost sightings. He figured it was to keep students away but he never believed in such things anyway. He had a fair share of dead people he'd like to meet. Maybe that was a good excuse too.

Jiwon wasn't much of a future-seeker. If he lives long enough to grow up, it'll be a burden. Nobody was there to provide for him. He can't compete with graduates in finding jobs. He's not patient nor motivated enough to find a decent one and giving up seems like the best choice there is. 

He'll probably end up in the streets by the time he's in his mid-20s. So he vowed to end his life before it ever happens. 

When you're poor, you don't have many options. 

The metal door in the rooftop creaked open the same time he finished a cigarette, stomping on it with worn out shoes which he was about to outgrow as he could feel his toes poking at the front. It looked like he had to wear sneakers to school again, which was just as worn out but at least it's not too small for him. 

"How bad was it?" 

He looked up at Hanbin who was running towards his direction with a box in his hand. The usual first-aid kit that he's never been fine with. He hoped he didn't smell the smoke on him so he'd stay for a while. 

"I'm not even hurt." It was true. He doesn't feel anything yet. Maybe when he's at home and he gets yelled at for ruining his uniform once again, he will. Maybe when he's taking a cold shower and the water hits the old and new bruises, he will. Maybe when Hanbin leaves, the pain finally will sink in. 

Right then, it didn't hurt. 

Hanbin tilted his head as if to examine him, already opening the kit with which the content was only minimal because he's been in a handful of fights that they lost count of how many times they did this. How many times Hanbin had been there, scolding him, tending his wounds, looking at him like he cares. He doesn't say it directly. But Jiwon knows it because Hanbin always comes back. 

"When I told you I wanted to be a nurse, I never said I only wanted one patient." Hanbin shook his head, his hand reaching for him to clean the blood running down his left eyebrow, and the crusty one near his ear. Jiwon moved closer. 

Whenever this happens, he doesn't really talk much. He just watched as Hanbin rambles on, how his lips part to tell him he shouldn't get into fights because what if it goes out of hand and he dies in the middle of it? 

Sometimes, Hanbin would momentarily forget about him being wounded. He would sigh and tell him instead about difficult school works. Or how he put so much effort in texts but his lover wouldn't reply. 

Jiwon doesn't know who Hanbin's lover was. He doesn't bother to ask. He thinks he's lying about it whenever he unconsciously cracks a smile but he never really feels much. 

He wishes there was someone to tell him what to do or feel in different situations. Kind of like a command, a clockwork operation, and he would abide by it. Just to know if he's still functional, if his actions are right, would it make someone happy? And if they're wrong, mad? 

He wishes he was a little more like Hanbin. Who feels and loves and maybe even hurts. There's not much numbness he can take anymore. 

"It still amazes me how you're not even flinching." Hanbin smiled, putting back his things in the box. He sat beside him and leaned his back on the wall. 

"You're the one flinching for me." Jiwon said, eyes focused on the skyline. He wondered if they were being watched right then. What would they say about two unlike boys on the rooftop, one with hopes and dreams and one without. Do they think it's unusual or was it very likely for opposites to attract. 

Hanbin snorted, his shoulders shaking after a laugh. He always does that. "Yeah, I'll take the hurt for you." He turned his head to the side to face him. 

Jiwon knew if he faces him, he'll have to respond so he doesn't. He just closed his eyes and hoped he'd fall asleep soon. Hanbin sniffled beside him.

"Jiwon, I'll go now." 

He opens his eyes then, unconsciously. Because for once, his name sounded good on someone else's mouth. And for once, he liked hearing it.

He didn't get the chance to answer because he was suddenly leaving. When the door closed, Jiwon's sure Hanbin had smelled the smoke off him. 

Was it the only reason why he didn't stay? 

///////

Jiwon doesn't remember exactly why they started moving out every once in a while. There were a few reasons he could think of. At the top of the list would be money. The rent costs too much or they just don't have enough to pay. After all, living is a necessity. 

Or maybe mainly because his family was too much of a nuisance to deal with. 

The farthest memory he could think of was having to bid farewell to the strange neighbor his mother forced him to befriend. He was crying, and Jiwon stared at him because he didn't know why. They're not even remotely friends, they didn't talk to each other unless there was some coercion and frankly, Jiwon didn't like him. 

"Hyung." He called, and the older one faced him with tears streaming down his blushing cheeks, cupid bow's lips quivering as he jumped for a hug.

"Take care, Jiwon-ah." There was a sudden urge to push him away, punch his face until the blush turned into blood. So his tears will turn into hurt instead of longing. But Jiwon found himself hugging him back. 

The connection between them was nonexistent. Yet it was like there was a furnace in his heart starting a fire to warm him up. Winter hasn't come. 

A kiss in his cheek sealed it. That was the first time he was ever uncertain of his feelings. 

At first he thought it was disgust, he wanted to wipe it off. Go back to his original plan to beat the shit out of him for being gross. What kind of a crazy, sick bastard would kiss another guy in front of his mother? 

Initially, he went by that feeling. 

Until it was Hanbin kissing his cheek, after dressing his wounds, saying it would lessen the pain. And maybe it was the placebo taking effect, because it did. 

It was just a slight touch of lips, so different from the deep press of what his neighbor gave him. But he felt it crawl all over his face with the purpose of covering his body, wrapping him up like a blanket and tucking him to sleep. 

He wasn't disgusted one bit. It was almost like he was happy. 

And when he went to visit his mother in the hospital that day, she seemed to know.


	3. The Purgatory

The thing about The Purgatory is that he wasn't familiar with it in the very least. The place Jiwon was in was so different from what he was told of. It's like he was in another fantasy world, with an  _ angel _ chewing on some fake popcorn by his side. He doesn't even remember how he died.  _ If _ he died. 

"So, Hanbin, let's talk about him." Jinhwan turns his little head to face him, the screen going black and the surroundings changing into something much like that of the rooftop in the flashback. "This place is sick, by the way." Jinhwan roams his eyes around. 

Jiwon tries to remember. The feeling of lying down, watching the sunset alone as the amber-colored skies seemed to be coming down to cover him. The feeling of open wounds being treated by a light dab of cotton from a warm hand, whose angelic face slowly fades as he gets near. There was none. Still numb. "I don't remember ever meeting him." He confesses, lowering down his head in disappointment. 

Jinhwan smiles at him, walking closer to pat his shoulder. "Memories take time to come back. Especially for you because you spent so much time being an  _ uncollected." _

The angel explains it was a phenomenon where souls remain at rest until it's time to collect them, hence, uncollected. Jiwon couldn't believe this is what happens to people after they die. He wasn't a big fan of the afterlife, nor the past life. He wonders if he'll meet his dead aunt in The Heaven. Would they recognize each other? Do dead people have reunion? 

"Jeez, I can hear you thinking from here." Jinhwan cringes, laughing when Jiwon stares at him with wide eyes. "Not literally. It's an expression, Jiwon." He sighs at that. 

The rooftop was even smaller in person. Jiwon wondered how  _ alive Jiwon _ liked being in here too much. It seems to suffocate him, despite being already dead.

"Since you can't remember Hanbin. Let's just look at it from an outsider's point-of-view. Pretend we're watching a movie where you're the star. What can you say about him?" Jinhwan sits on the floor, leaning his head on the wall like how alive Jiwon did during the flashback. He does the same as he thinks. 

"He's nice." Jiwon says, hesitant as he watches Jinhwan tilt his head, urging him to tell him more. "Uh, well… I think he's wasting his time with Jiwon—me, with me." He looks away. 

Jinhwan narrows his eyes and nods, accepting his answer without questioning him. The angel follows the direction of his eyes and they both catch a graffiti on the lower part of the wall that says,  _ Hanbin was here _ in a fading red paint. And then it was altered with a black one that adds  _ Jiwon and, _ changing the  _ was _ to  _ were _ with one strike. 

_ Jiwon and Hanbin  _ ~~_ was _ ~~ _ were here. _

"But he's you're friend." Jinhwan tells him, his voice sounding like a whisper as if not to overpower what goes through his mind. 

"I don't think I considered him as one. Maybe I was just using him to tend to my wounds." Jiwon shrugs. He looks away from the fad3d graffiti and starts circling his finger at the aglet of his shoelaces. 

"I see." He feels Jinhwan rest his head on his shoulder. The angel was warm, it felt weird. "But don't you think you liked it whenever he did that? He seems to care about you so much." 

Jiwon wishes he could remember everything right now. He's judging from a few scenes in the flashback. What if he hurt Hanbin as the years went by? What if Hanbin hurt him? Is Hanbin the reason why he's dead? Or did they fall apart before that like what most  _ friends _ do.

"Maybe I was clinging onto him because he made me feel something."

"And do you know what that something is?"

"I saw it in my eyes…" he pauses, reminiscing the moment when he saw it a while ago. "When Hanbin kissed my cheek, it was like… like they visibly sparkled." 

But Jinhwan didn't have to know that when he watched that exact same scene, his heart started beating so fast he thought he was alive again. How is that even possible?

"Did you also see the disgust in your eyes when the older guy kissed you? How does that make you feel?" 

Jiwon pulls his lower lip between his teeth. It was embarrassing to b watching your old (and alive) homophobic self beside an angel. "There's this thing...uh, I don't know if you guys know it but…" Jinhwan lifts his head then, interest piqued. "Reaction Formation." 

The angel's face brightens, pursing his lips. "Oh, I know about that. We had a quick Defense Mechanism lessons with Big G awhile back when we were trying to get Sigmund Freud kicked out of The Heaven for being too malicious."

Jiwon thinks he didn't have to know that. But he snorts anyway, finding the situation funny. "Anyway, I think I was disgusted, ah, or repulsed by him because he was more open about how he presents himself. My mother probably raised me with prejudiced views, I don't know. I don't remember her either." 

Jinhwan averts his gaze from him then, and Jiwon catches on that the angel was hiding something but he doesn't pry. He's sure he'll tell him what it was when it's necessary. 

"Do you have an inkling why Hanbin was so important to you?" The angel stands up, lending a hand and Jiwon takes it as he lifts himself up. The surroundings changed back to the default setting of The Purgatory, in which it looked like a ripped-off The Heaven. 

He shrugs again. Uncertain, and only guessing when he says, "Maybe I loved him." 

Then the questions of how and why came rushing in again, magnified into tens and thousands more. Jiwon wants to know if Hanbin was his greatest love. What kind of impact did he do for him to be the only one capable of making his memories return. Shouldn't it be someone naturally close to him? Like his mother? 

Why was the simple mention of Hanbin's name makes him feel like he was being brought back to life? 

"Maybe he was a special friend who never left my side when I was at my worst." He adds. 

"Maybe he helped me get through the bad times. Maybe he eased my sufferings." He wonders which of his guesses were true, and which are not. 

He realizes Jinhwan was still holding his hand. It tightens a bit more when they look at each other. 

"Jinhwan." Jiwon calls, and as he begins to open his mouth to speak, a sudden memory hits him like lightning. Red and black. It was dark and all he could smell was blood. He could hear screams of agony, and something burning. He sees a figure of a woman, walking towards him with a cigarette in between her fingers and then it was like he was jolted awake before she could even get closer. 

He feels a streak of tear roll down his cheek, and when he looks down at his hand, removing Jinhwan's hold on him, he sees a cigarette burn on his palm. "My Mom." 

Jinhwan doesn't even ask. He probably knows what happened already. The angel pulls him in for a hug in an instant, tight and warm. Jiwon doesn't know what to do. He was still in shock. "Don't worry." Jinhwan whispers, rubbing his back in comfort. "She was sent to hell."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please donate (if you can) or sign petitions (if you haven't)! Here's some ways you can help: https://blacklivesmatters.carrd.co

**Author's Note:**

> So there's that.
> 
> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> I'm here sometimes: [@bootleglies](https://mobile.twitter.com/bootleglies)


End file.
